And the Hunter Home From the Hill
by lillypilly11
Summary: A collection of Sophie/Nate moments from Season Five.
1. The Gimme a K Street Job

_A/N: This will be a series of scene additions or post-eps for season 5, just short little scenes or moments as they come to me. I might go back and write some for the earlier episodes, but first up here is a post-episode ficlet for 'The Gimme a K Street Job'._

* * *

All he had done was mention their meeting with the new client tomorrow, and suddenly Sophie was glaring at him, eyes wide and hands on hips as if waiting for him to magically realise what he had said wrong.

"Nate."

He spread his hands. "What?"

"You forgot? Really? You're hopeless, you know, I'm leaving for Dubai. Tomorrow."

"Oh, that." He hadn't been entirely sure she wasn't joking about that. "You're actually going?"

"Of course I'm - why wouldn't I go?"

He shrugged and ducked his head, avoiding eye contact as he tried to come up with something to say that _wouldn't_ annoy her. "Okay, well, guess I'll meet the clients with Eliot, then. Uh, have a good time."

"Actually," she sounded almost uncertain, forestalling his thoughts of making a quick exit from the conversation. "I was wondering... well I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me."

He raised his eyebrows at that. "To, what, travel for hours in the desert, just to watch you do your 'By the People, For the People' shtick for a bunch of military officials and contractors?"

She sighed. "You used to love watching me work. It might be fun, you know. Maybe we could take an extra night or two - I do love Dubai. Besides," she slunk closer suddenly, winding her arms up around his neck, "I've been thinking."

His hands found their way naturally to her hips as he looked down at her. "Oh yes?"

"You and I, we haven't spent nearly enough time together, just the two of us, you know, a nice hotel, an exotic locale..."

"Just blow off things here and go away for a few days?"

"Mm-hm," she purred in his ear. "Sound good?"

"It, uh, it does sound pretty good," he agreed, apparently surprising her.

"Really, you want to?"

He shrugged. "Why not? Eliot can take the client meeting tomorrow, and we'll run the job next week."

"Careful, Nate, you might just pass for someone who _isn't_ an obsessive workaholic one of these days."

"I'm growing."

"And I'm so proud." She rolled her eyes, but she was clearly pleased.

He pulled her a little closer against him, enjoying being able to make her happy. While he might still excel at making her annoyed, too, this was infinitely preferable, and he had been making a point of it lately to do so more often.

"A few nights in Dubai, huh, sounds... romantic," he said. With a smile, he bent his head to kiss her.

She returned his smile, met his lips in a brief peck, and then was suddenly out of his arms and halfway across the room. "This is going to be great. I'm going to tell Hardison to fix the travel arrangements. Then I need to pack. I'll see you later."

"Oh, okay, sure."

"Nate," she called from the doorway, "Just a thought - what about a stopover in Paris on the way home?"

"Well that could be -"

"We can go shopping!"

"Uh, hang on, Sophie, what?"

She was already gone.

Nate frowned, left with somewhat conflicted feelings on the matter, and wondering whether this hadn't been her plan all along. On the one hand, spending time alone with Sophie. On the other hand, spending time alone with Sophie in a bunch of Parisian shoe stores.

Well, maybe he would luck out and there would be a lingerie store somewhere in there. Maybe he could even convince her to skip the shoes, and just focus on the lingerie.

Yeah, fat chance.

He sighed, and went to go get a drink.


	2. The DB Cooper Job

_A/N: This is a post-ep for The D.B. Cooper Job. I loved seeing a glimpse of fangirl Sophie in this episode, and I think they missed an opportunity to follow up on that after they solved the case. They were going for a more serious tone with the episode, of course. Um, this is... not so serious. It's kind of very silly, actually. Hope you enjoy reading!_

* * *

It was the day after Nate had helped close the case on D.B. Cooper once and for all.

Well, almost.

There was one slight problem that didn't seem likely to resolve itself any time soon.

The problem in question was the owner of the pair of eyes that were boring into the back of his head right now.

He could feel her staring at him. And any moment now -

"Nate," she began as she slid onto the stool next to him.

"It's not a good idea," he said flatly.

She immediately bristled. "You don't know what I -"

"I really think I do know exactly what you're about to say."

"Look, I've been really good about this. I've been completely reasonable. I understand that - that poor Agent McSweeten, he needed to resolve all this for himself. Find closure, whatever. All very sad. And look, he did that, and it's great, but now -"

"Sophie..."

"_D.B. Cooper._"

"Dan Cooper. And he goes by Steve, now, actually."

"Whatever. You actually found him - I never thought you'd actually _find_ him - and he lives _near here_. And I can - I can _go and see him,_ Nate. I can meet D.B. Cooper."

"You already - you already saw him! He was here working with Hardison like two days ago."

"That doesn't count, I didn't know who he was then. _Nate. _Come on, let's go, right now," she grabbed his arm and started pulling him to his feet. "You're taking me to see him."

"Yeah, I just don't think it's -"

"Do I look all right?" She was patting her hair self-consciously.

"Why does it matter how you look?"

"_Nate,_ come on!" She took his hand and towed him towards the door.

* * *

He honestly couldn't say why he was in his car right now, driving Sophie to Steve Reynold's house. But here he was.

"You know," he said, continuing his apparently futile arguments, "It's just that we kind of resolved all of this already and..."

Sophie wasn't listening, too busy fixing her make-up.

"...And he's a wanted fugitive, you know. And he thinks I'm an FBI consultant - no one else but me and Agent McSweeten are supposed to know who he really is."

"Oh, good point, hold on." She dug in her purse and came up with a ring, kept on hand for emergency grifting situations, which she slid on her left ring finger and held up to show him. "There, now I'm your fiancée."

Nate felt a headache coming on. "You're my...?"

"And of course you tell me everything." She turned her head to the window and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like '_very bloody likely'_.

He cleared his throat. "So I just told you about the - this huge secret about a wanted fugitive? Just because?"

"The one I happen to be a _big_ fan of."

"_Wanted fugitive, _Sophie_._"

"You're not going to keep saying that when we see him, are you? Maybe you should stay in the car."

She checked herself in her hand mirror again, and then undid a button on her shirt.

He absolutely was not staying in the car.

* * *

Steve Reynolds looked understandably wary to see Nate on his doorstep again.

Nate spread his hands. "I'm really sorry about this," he began.

Only for Sophie to push forward, beaming, her hand outstretched. "Hello, I'm Sophie, it is just - it is _such_ a thrill to meet you."

Steve looked from the woman eagerly clasping his hand to Nate. "So I guess you didn't change your mind about arresting me, huh?"

"Oh, no, of course we're not here to arrest you!" Sophie said. "It's like I always say, what kind of mad world would it be where everyone who committed crimes went to prison?"

Like many a man before him when confronted with Sophie Devereaux, Steve seemed to be speechless. He looked to Nate for help, but Nate, who had lost all control of the situation some time ago and was now merely along for the ride, just shrugged.

"Uh, okay," Steve said. "Well, why don't you two come in, I guess. Can I make you some tea?"

"I would _love_ some tea, Mr Cooper - or, would you mind, could I call you D.B? Thank you so much, it's so kind of you to offer," Sophie gushed as they went inside.

They were soon situated on the sofa while their still very confused but well-meaning host was in the kitchen. Sophie rounded on Nate, eyes wide, and hit his arm. "_I'm about to have tea with D.B. bloody Cooper,"_ she hissed.

Nate nodded, trying to hide his smile. For all the absurdity of the situation, he was definitely glad he hadn't stayed in the car.

"Actually 'D.B.' wasn't ever his real name," he reminded her quietly after a moment of Sophie practically vibrating with excitement beside him.

"Shut up and don't ruin it," she shot back quickly, before turning to enthusiastically greet the man who had reappeared carrying a tray.

Out on the front stoop, after watching Sophie gush over another man for the last forty minutes, Nate waved a last goodbye and then led the way back to the car.

Sophie stared at him over the roof before getting in. "That," she said, "Was brilliant."

"Yeah, great. Can we go?" he replied.

"I mean, wow, crossing that one off the bucket list. Never thought it would happen, not in a million years. And I mean, that man, he literally lived right under the FBI's noses for decades. Talk about a long con - he's the ultimate grifter. A real role model, you know?"

Nate sighed and got into the car.

Sophie quickly got in, too, and to his surprise immediately grabbed his face in her hands and pulled him over to kiss him enthusiastically. Her tongue was in his mouth and her hands were running through his hair and it wasn't like he had a problem with it, it was just the sudden change of pace that left him almost too baffled to respond.

Before he knew it Sophie let go and flopped back into her seat. She took a deep breath, fanning herself with her hand.

"Okay," he said, "So what was that?"

"Let's go home," was her reply. "Your place. Or my place. Whichever one you can get to faster."

"O...kay." He started the car, but hesitated as finally his brain caught up to what was happening. "So, wait, you suddenly just want to -"

"Don't think about it too much."

"Right." His hands tightened a little on the steering wheel. He was thinking about it.

"Nate, I'm about to take you home and... do a lot of unspeakable things to you - really, got a problem with that?"

"Not unless you want to call me 'D.B'."

"Only in my head."

He frowned. She sounded a lot more serious about that than he would have liked.

She waved a hand at him. "Oh, whatever, you'll enjoy it."

After a moment, though, he shrugged and put the car in gear, pulling away from the curb. Because yeah, who was he kidding, he probably would.


	3. The Real Fake Car Job

_A/N: I swear to god, these two are going to kill me. (I mean seriously.) This follows immediately on from 'The Real Fake Car Job'. Also references the last scene from 'D.B. Cooper Job', because that's still on my mind, too. (Seriously, these two omgggg.)_

* * *

_"Wanting to move on, with or without you? It matters. We matter."_

"That's nice to hear," she said after a moment, as something a little bit tight and tense loosened in her chest. Her eyes fell away from his, dropping to the bartop between them. "Sometimes I have to wonder, though. About... all the things we still aren't telling each other. The things we still don't talk about."

"Keeping secrets, Soph?"

Was _she_ keeping secrets? Well, of course she was, but then, he knew about the secrets she was keeping. Most of them, anyway. She couldn't say the same for him. Did he really think she hadn't noticed that _something_ was going on?

That wasn't her point, however.

"But then it occurs to me," she went on, "Why all of that, somehow, doesn't seem to matter so much. Only think, Nate, where we were just a few years ago. I didn't know myself; you were trying to forget yourself. We kept bringing up the past because we had no idea how to negotiate the present. And look at us - here we are, talking about the future. Our future. It's been a strange, uneasy path getting here, hasn't it?" She smiled crookedly as she looked down at the bar, her fingers tracing an idle, swirling pattern following the wood grain. "Sometimes it's hard to believe we ever made it at all."

"None of us knew where this was going when we first started out."

"No one ever does. How does a control freak even begin to deal with the uncertainty? Doesn't it drive you mad?"

"You play the odds. You plan for the worst."

"You still have to roll the dice, though, in the end."

"It comes down to our choices. We can control our choices, that's all." His face took on a half-smile of amusement. "I could have been a priest, you know. Avoided a whole lot of trouble."

"Mm. Bet you could have been a lot of things. Still could be, clever man like you. I'm sure you've got a bright _future_ ahead of you."

"A cowboy. An astronaut."

She picked up her empty glass and indicated with it. "A bartender."

He took the glass and made his way around behind the bar, slinging a cloth over his shoulder for effect before pouring her drink, and then another for himself.

She accepted the refill and held up the glass. "To the future?" He nodded and they drank together. She swallowed slowly, appreciating the burn. "Eliot thinks I wouldn't make it, settling down. Being normal."

He shrugged. "Why would he know any better than you? You've tried it before."

"Tried, being the operative word."

She knew he was thinking of the day when he had come to find her in a little theatre in Chicago.

She was thinking of an earlier time; of a girl who married a man she had honestly loved - only to find it wasn't nearly enough.

"You were a different person, then," he spoke into her silence, and she had to wonder how much he knew - or thought he knew, about that time in her life. "You know yourself better, now, don't you?"

She knew what was important. She knew what she wanted. She'd come to believe those were more or less the same thing.

"A normal life," she mused. "Well, there's normal and there's normal, isn't there?"

"Exactly. You know, a bartender, a priest, a... whatever job title you want to call whatever it is I do now. They all have one thing in common. People, they -"

"They tell you their troubles," she finished for him. "Funny, that. What were you saying about choices?"

He shook his head, taking a sip from his drink. "No, nothing is predetermined."

She set her elbows on the bar, her chin in her hands. "If I tell you I believe in fate, will your head explode?"

"You don't believe in fate."

"Don't I?" He frowned; he wasn't sure now. She laughed a little. "Nate, you may not be the hero in this little story of ours, but you're not like the sirens, either. You use the siren song as a tactic, and you use it well. They doom themselves with their own weaknesses. But these are no hapless sailors, no innocents. They doom themselves. Remember that."

"So it's, what, the hand of _fate_?"

"Call it poetic justice - easier to swallow. And don't argue with me on this, I know my literary devices."

He smirked. "Of course you do."

"You know, I think I should have asked you which character you think I am. Could be quite revealing. Don't say Penelope," she ordered quickly, before he even had a chance to consider the question. "All that virtue, all that waiting. Please, the woman's rich, she's got her own bloody island, and a bunch of Greek men jumping at the chance to woo her. We should all have her problems. And what does she do? Cry her eyes out every night waiting for her idiot husband to learn how to read a map."

"So... not Penelope."

"No."

"Okay, then you would be -"

"And don't you dare say Circe, either." He tried once more to speak and she jumped in again. "Or Helen."

"Hey, you know, Helen had to have been more than just a pretty face. To cause that much trouble?"

"I think you're vastly underestimating the shallowness of men, but whatever. She was a pawn, poor thing. You'll have to do better than that."

He took a breath, waited to see if she would interrupt again, and then said: "Athena."

"Hmm. Goddess of Wisdom and War. Known for her wit and wiles. Acceptable."

"_Stand beside me, Athena," _he quoted._ "Stand by me, my bright-eyed one - and I would fight three hundred men, great goddess, with you to brace me. _She was his patron, his greatest ally. He couldn't have done any of it without her, you know."

"I thought you weren't Odysseus."

He shrugged. "It's not a perfect analogy."

"Yes well, the heroic sagas - none of them were ever much ones for self-determination. It was always the gods guiding their paths, directing their actions. Saving them from folly."

"Give me a choice, any day. Even if I'm the one dooming myself in the end."

"Control freak," she said, but she said it fondly. He was _her_ control freak, after all.

He spread his hands, not disputing the label. Then he picked up the bottle again. "Another?"

She shook her head. "It's late."

"So. You, uh, you ever take the bartender home with you?"

"No, no, Nate, come on. There you go, focusing on the past again. What you want to be asking is, will I take the bartender home with me tonight?"

"You could tell me your troubles."

"Perhaps I could."

The truth was, they seemed less troublesome these days - less present, less painful than she could ever remember them being. Funny the power a little thing like happiness could wield.

"I suppose you'll do," she said after a moment, reaching over to take the cloth from his shoulder and lay it aside.

"And tomorrow? The day after?"

"Well, I suppose we can figure it out together - make a choice - isn't that the idea?"

He smiled, and then he was coming around the bar as she stood to meet him, his arm sliding around her back to draw her to his side. "Let's go home," he said.


End file.
